


A Little Bit Mean

by tisfan



Series: Tony Stark Bingo [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Held Down, M/M, learn to compliment yourself, light humiliation, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony Stark Bingo R3 - Held DownTony wants Bucky to admit that he’s gorgeous. How much sensual torment can the Winter Soldier take before Bucky caves to the admission?





	A Little Bit Mean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eriot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriot/gifts).



> for eriot, who drew the very not safe for work, exceptionally hot picture at the bottom of the fic

“You pin me down all the time,” Tony said, mock-complaining. Which was certainly true. Tony was such a little thing, and Bucky was super soldier serum enhanced, so picking his boyfriend up, or holding him down, was fun.

And Tony writhed and wriggled under Bucky, which was also exciting.

Tony had a tendency toward _more, better, harder, faster_ all the time, and holding him pinned and making him endure pleasure was fun for both of them. Tony was such a hedonist; always pursuing pleasure, that sometimes he forgot that he didn’t need to chase it.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, rough, his voice cracking.

“So I thought I’d see what you got out of it,” Tony said. He’d rigged up magnetic cuffs and affixed them to the support structure. The mag cuffs were used to hold down and restrain extra powerful bad guys, and had, in fact, managed to hold down -- among others, Steve, Thor, and Spider-man in the various test phases. Bucky, with his knock off serum, wasn’t going _anywhere_.

Bucky squirmed a little. He was completely naked, laying on the bed, arms clipped over his head. Spread and stretched. _Vulnerable_.

Tony, on the other hand, was completely dressed and impeccable in one of his business suits, which gave the whole thing an added power feel to it.

The soldier, the voice Bucky could sometimes ignore, but was always there, pointed out that while his hands were bound, he could very easily disable his captor--

Tony pulled out another device, a metal bar with mag cuffs on it. A spreader bar. “Not quite enough, I think. You’re still plotting.” His brown eyes flicked up to meet Bucky’s. “You’re still good?”

Bucky considered it. He hitched in a breath, recognized his nerves for what they were. He trusted Tony. He did.

“We don’t have to do this,” Tony said, putting one hand on Bucky’s thigh. Tony’s skin was warm, the touch was comforting. Grounding. “You got nothing to prove.”

Tony probably didn’t even know he was using the same words that Bucky himself had used (toward Steve) more than seventy years ago. Steve had absolutely had something that he felt he needed to prove.

And so did Bucky. Prove it to himself, if nothing else. There was no way he could ever prove his love and devotion to _Tony_ , but Tony didn’t seem to require it, either.

Bucky let himself relax. Maybe if he couldn’t actually move, the soldier would shut up and let things happen.

“I’m good, let’s do this.”

Tony grinned and rewarded that with more touches, stroking Bucky’s thigh with light fingers. Teasing at the tender insides until Bucky let his legs fall open.

He closed his eyes, letting his head roll back, feeling those delicious caresses; from skin to nerves, nerves to spine, up to his brain and back down to his balls. Tony didn’t seem to be in a hurry for a change, just petting Bucky, letting the soft sensation calm him, relax him, and then-- _uuumph_. That wasn’t so relaxing, but damn it felt good. Tony’s hand over Bucky’s cock, stroking him.

“Open your eyes,” Tony told him. “Watch me.”

That was somehow harder. And at the same time, more exciting. Bucky had always tended to prefer love-making in the dark, where he felt protected. Making himself vulnerable to another person was hard enough.

He imagined that Tony would be disgusted with his scars, his metal arm, the ridiculous faces he made when in the grip of pleasure.

That he didn’t feel the same about Tony’s scars, or Tony’s faces didn’t always help. Bucky would crack someone’s skull who suggested that Tony’s arc-reactor was ugly, or that his scars weren’t sexy. But it was hard to feel himself that way. That every flaw wasn’t magnified a million times, that--

“Shhh, you’re still thinking. Don’t.”

Bucky let his legs fall open even further and Tony clamped his ankles to the spreader, deceptively heavy for how frail it looked. “Adamantium?”

“It’d have to be.” Tony got Bucky’s legs spread, then chained the whole thing to the floor. Bucky’s ankles were held at either side of the bed, making a wide vee, thighs splayed open, knees only a little bent. With the chain and weight holding him down, Bucky could barely lift his heels, and could twist a little. “Feel free to test that out. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, struggling.”

_Don’t want to hurt Tony, struggling_ , Bucky read into it. Which was probably also true.

At first, his struggles were mild, testing the hold, the weight, and as it clicked in place with his lizard brain exactly how trapped he was, they bordered on frantic.

And it didn’t matter.

He was good and stuck.

It took a few minutes to beat the panic back, to remember that he wanted this, that Tony was right here, that Bucky was _safe_.

“Still good?”

“As gold,” Bucky said, panting a little. His dick had all sorts of interesting ideas about it, practically pointing at the ceiling as the adrenaline pumped in his veins. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“Indeed not,” Tony said. “So… what shall we do with you, while you’re locked down and can’t do anything about it?”

“Somethin’ nice, I hope,” Bucky said. He deserved something nice, he thought.

Tony walked all the way around the bed, inspecting Bucky as if he was a purchase Tony was considering. From time to time, Tony touched him, running a hand over Bucky, catching sensitive and shivery parts of his body.

He leaned over and licked Bucky’s nipple stiff, keeping his tongue on the very peak. No matter how much Bucky tried to lean up into it, he couldn’t get more than an inch or so of leverage, and Tony just tormented him, teasing that nub of flesh until it _ached_.

Tony blew cold air over the wet nipple, which had Bucky writhing again. “So sensitive,” Tony teased, his fingers going down to leave ticklish trails over Bucky’s belly. Gooseflesh rippled up and down his arms, his chest. A wash of chill in his stomach, excitement in his groin, heat in his thighs. He squirmed, harder, fighting the restraints, but all he could do was fucking lay there and take it. Tony plucked at him, tightening his nipple again, until it was pebbled and tiny.

With a heated sigh, Tony affixed his mouth over the abused tit, warming it, licking and sucking, a graze of teeth.

Every single inch of his body was fixed on that one sensation, that moved from pleasurable to teasing to almost fucking unbearable, and back again. A circle of I hate it, I love it, stop-don’t stop that had Bucky almost dizzy.

“Is that _nice_?” Tony wondered, but didn't really wait for a response. Which was good, because Bucky wasn't sure he was coherent anyway. He moaned and Tony smirked, like Bucky's reaction was everything he'd hoped for.

The dichotomy was weird, Bucky thought. The way he flared with heat and want, twisted with shame, ached with need, and then writhed with indignation.

Like he had to _endure_ it, feeling good and being teased and tested without being able to respond. And that Tony was, somehow, mocking him for it. It was a weird mix of conflicting desires and it didn't seem to matter what he wanted, Tony was going to do exactly as Tony pleased.

“You need a minute?” Tony asked, fingers still tormenting Bucky's nipple.

He arched into it again with a groan. “I begin t’ understand why people like _pain_ ,” Bucky said. Tony himself liked to be spanked, which Bucky was happy to do for him, enjoyed it even, having Tony so compliant for a while, without understanding it at all.

But being spanked or slapped might make the weird humiliation/vulnerability emotion make more sense.

“We can certainly try that,” Tony said, easily. He walked around the bed again, shoes hard on the floor, his slacks whisking together softly. Bucky was so much more aware of everything. “But not tonight. Tonight is about how much pleasure you can take. How long you can go. How desperate you'll get. What will you do, to get me to let you come?”

Bucky squirmed again, feeling even more like an experiment in a petri dish. “Like?”

Tony stroked him, touched his thighs, explored the sensitive crease, traced a line over the groove of his hip. “Will you beg me to touch you, lick you, suck that sensitive head?” He demonstrated, hand going around to brush along the skin of Bucky’s cock. Bucky couldn’t help the way his hips flexed, but sprawled out like he was, all it did was convey a shiver. “God, you’re gorgeous like this.”

Bucky flattened his mouth, eyes averted. He hated when he thought people were staring at his scars, his arm, but he also hated Tony pointing out how gorgeous he thought those things were.

“You don’t believe me,” Tony said, reading his mind the way Tony often seemed to do. Or Bucky just couldn’t keep his thoughts off his face. Not like Tony with his press-smile and his ever-present public mask. “So, I suppose that’ll be our first test.”

“What?”

You have to tell me that you’re gorgeous,” Tony said. One finger ran a soft, teasing line up and down Bucky’s dick, stroking him from balls to frenulum and back.

“Or what?” Because Bucky couldn’t help but ask, couldn’t help but lash out at a challenge.

“Or… just this--” Up and down, that light, playful, nearly unbearable touch. “We won’t go any further than this, until you say it.”

Bucky let out an exasperated huff. “You ain’t gonna get me off like that.”

“No, I’m not,” Tony agreed. He didn’t seem in a particular hurry, either. And he didn’t _stop_. Just that feathery caress, up and down. Sometimes drifting lower to slide over Bucky’s balls. Along the inside of his thigh. Down to tickle at the brutally sensitive skin at the back of his knee. Up again.

He stopped and took off his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up, loosening and discarding his tie. Bucky’s favorite look for Tony, casually elegant. And Tony knew it, because Bucky always stared at him when all the skin he was showing was a triangle patch of his chest, the very top of the arc-reactor, and his forearms.

Even that wasn’t enough to get Bucky to give Tony what he wanted.

For a while, Bucky just rode it out, stubbornly refusing to say anything, wondering how long Tony could keep that up without giving in to the urge to do more. And every time he thought he’d get used to it, Tony switched it up a little. Moved to exploring Bucky’s ribs, or lightly brushing over his nipples. Spent a ridiculous amount of time stroking the inside of Bucky’s arm, and up almost to his armpit, not quite tickling, but close enough that Bucky couldn’t relax.

“God, you’re fuckin’ mean,” Bucky burst out.

“You know how to make it stop,” Tony crooned. “You can either say what I’ve asked you to say. Or you can safeword out.”

Bucky considered it.

Safewording out, over this, though? He made a disgruntled noise, tried to push up against Tony’s hand again. Goddamnit. He hated giving in, though. Especially after he’d made such a production out of it. Tony’s finger brushed very lightly over Bucky’s hole, jolting him back to awareness, making him cry out with the sudden flare of need.

“Harder than you thought this would be, isn’t it?”

“Mean,” Bucky reiterated.

“I own it,” Tony said. “And you’re gorgeous. Are you sure you can’t say it for me?” Circling spirales up Bucky’s shaft as his dick quivered and jumped like it had a mind of its own. “Hmmm?”

“Tony, please.” Heartfelt, sincere, pleading.

“Uh, no,” Tony said. “You know what I want to hear. You don’t have to believe it, not yet. But you do have to say it.”

“Jesus,” Bucky said, turning his head as his eyes prickled. _Why_ was this so damn hard? He managed a few more gasping breaths before, voice cracking painfully-- “I’m gorgeous.”

“Yes, you are,” Tony told him. He crawled onto the bed. “And you’re very good for me, honey. I know it was difficult.” Tony licked a wet stripe down Bucky’s dick.

Bucky was so wound up, so on edge, that he practically exploded into arrested movement, yanking at every inch, fighting the restraints until he collapsed again, breathing hard, sweating profusely, unable to move at all.

“There you are, you just lay back, relax, let me do all the work now, sweetheart,” Tony said.

And Bucky didn’t usually watch, he liked the lights out, but he was helpless to look away as Tony worked him over.

Lots of eye contact, even when Tony’s eyelashes were clumping together with unshed tears, he kept looking at Bucky, and Bucky kept looking back. That wicked, clever tongue went round and round, tracing lines, tasting, sampling. Tony mouthed over the head, then braced himself, opened his throat, and took Bucky in deep, even deeper.

“Oh, Christ,” Bucky wailed.

It was so much harder to take, when he couldn’t do anything but lay there. Except he literally couldn’t do anything but take it.

The only other option he had was to call a safeword, and Bucky thought he’d rather die than have Tony stop.

Even if the torrent of sexual pleasure Bucky was experiencing was nearly _unbearable_.

Bucky wailed and moaned, wriggled and wiggled and jolted, begged and pleaded and swore, and kept goddamn _looking--_

He wasn’t going to last long at all, not as wound up as he was. As soon as he even thought that, pressure started building in his balls, the ache in his groin as he strained toward it, not even trying to fight it off, just wanting it, he’d already _waited_ , he--

He came so hard he literally thought he could hear it-- the way his spill hit the roof of Tony’s mouth, the way Tony choked before regaining control, the way come dribbled out of Tony’s mouth and ran in rivulets down Bucky’s dick.

“Holy shit,” Bucky managed.

“I’ll say,” Tony agreed. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand, utterly unselfconscious. “Good job.” He licked at the remaining come, cleaning Bucky up until he was twitchy and overstimulated and practically crying. “You’re so good for me, the things you let me do.”

“Love you,” Bucky said, like it was an explanation. Maybe it was.

Tony crawled up the bed and kissed Bucky. Bucky could taste himself in Tony’s mouth, shuddered, and deepened the kiss, practically sucking Tony’s tongue.

“Love you, too,” Tony said. “Lemme--” He reached and depressed the magnetic release, letting Bucky’s arms drop to the bed. For a long moment, Bucky was free, but he still couldn’t fucking _move_.

Finally, he got enough control over his limbs that he could wrap his arm around Tony, still fully dressed, and drag him over to Bucky’s side. “You are so mean,” Bucky whined again. “And I’m totally going to get revenge on you for that.”

Tony kissed Bucky’s neck. “I’m looking forward to it.”


End file.
